Dave Singleman. That was his name. Willy told me today that because of Dave Singleman he wanted to die the death of a salesman. He wanted hundreds of people at his funeral. But I don't know if I'm ready for him to live the life of a Salesman? He makes it sound so grand. Willy always makes everything sound so perfect.
He says that without leaving his room at the age of 84 this man...Dave, could make a living. He said that it was then he realized that selling was the greatest career a man could want. Cause what could be more satisfying then having the man you love being able to go, at the age of 84, into twenty or thirty different cities, and pick up a phone, and be remembered and loved and helped by so many different people?
That's what he told me. He wants to be loved by everyone.
It makes me worry sometimes. Isn't my love enough? This kind of life sounds so lonely. He'll always be gone away to New Haven or Hartford...Boston. I'll be here in New York. I'll be surrounded by people who love him and know his name. He'll be everywhere but home.
This isn't the life I'd imagined...the one he promised me. I can remember him whispering in my ear...so full of hope and charm. "You wait, kid, before it's all over we're gonna get a little place out in the country, and I'll raise some vegetables, a couple of chickens...".
Well now he's a salesman at 17. Looks like we'll be in New York for a while. I just hope that we're somewhere living out our dream and he isn't working at 84.
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